


The Fall or The Break

by SunsetScomiche



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Angst, Avi being a good bro, Confessions of love, Exploration of Clothing, M/M, Pieces in black, Pining, Scott-Centric, minimal smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-03-21 03:55:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13732614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunsetScomiche/pseuds/SunsetScomiche
Summary: It starts off with a simple thing.





	The Fall or The Break

It starts off with a simple thing.

Just a small, black bracelet Mitch had slipped on, left dangling over his thin wrist. 

Scott eyes it, and schools down the feeling that rises in his chest. As Mitch continues talking, Scott tries to focus on his words. 

"I like your bracelet," Scott says casually, sometime in between the chatter, and Mitch brushes it off just the same. 

Months later, when he's lying in bed, thinking about it, and how it led to all of this, he'll wonder if Mitch will ever know how he feels. 

And he'll worry, because maybe... 

Maybe Mitch will never know it; that this feeling kills him like the plague, tearing into every muscle, infecting every cell, harboring in his brain until he's consumed by it.

The next time it happens, it's a sheer, black over-shirt. It hangs in a petite frame over Mitch's chest, accentuating his figure in the best of ways. Scott isn't paying attention when Mitch stops in his doorway, asking him a question that he inevitably won't hear after he looks up.

That shirt should have been the end of it. 

It had never been on Scott's radar to notice when Mitch wore his boxers around the apartment. But when Scott ventured out for food and saw Mitch sauntering around the floor, cleaning this and that, Scott had found himself fixated on the black cotton and the way it clung to the curves of Mitch's ass. He manages to tear his eyes away, somehow. But, it's no wonder that when a fan asks, Scott's first word for that beautiful, arching thing is "plump."

The next shirt is really... different. It's more feminine, and Scott really likes it. 

It's almost a peplum, babydoll sort of style, with its neat black collar and flowing, fringed body. That would have been enough, but the little bow that sits in the middle of the neck is what causes Scott to catch his breath as he looks up from his computer. He hides it as best he can, and he hopes that Mitch won't think he's angry with him when he gives one-word replies and has to breathe in deeply after he leaves.

It's a game, really, but it's not one he's willing to play. 

He has two options. He can ignore it, and go on as if Mitch's existence isn't tearing his world apart. Or, he can act on it. 

He still hasn't made that decision two days later when Mitch calls him from down the hall. Mitch is getting ready to go out, and he's running behind. His voice trails sweetly through the air, and even though he really doesn't want to see Mitch go, Scott can't help but answer him just as sweetly.

When Mitch walks through his door, and Scott turns to look at him, he nearly loses his breath entirely. 

It's- You'd practically think Mitch was working the club, not just visiting it. Scott has to tamp down the roaring need to protect him, tell him to change, tell him he's absolutely not leaving like this. All it would really mean is, _you're not leaving me._

But then Mitch steps even closer, and he's stepping into Scott's space now, breathing in his air. Scott tries, but he just can't take his eyes off Mitch's and the way they stare back like he wants the attention. 

Mitch turns, just as he crosses too close to Scott, too close to the line between 'friends' and 'lovers,' and Scott takes in more of his outfit. He's been dancing around that line for ages now, and he's not even surprised anymore when his breath hitches in his throat. 

There's just so much skin. He can practically see all of it, from the strong dip in the back of the sheer black dress as it forms a V to expose Mitch's rich, gently sculpted shoulder blades and long, arching spine, to the bend and curve in his luscious hips and the way they move under the leather that Scott can only assume Mitch had bought from a sex shop somewhere. 

His fingers tremble, but at least his tone is steady when he asks, "What do you need?"

He chances a look into Mitch's eyes and what he sees there causes the tremble to worsen. His stare is gentle and small but so, _so_ needy. Scott wants to kiss him then, to grab that sweetly carved jaw and ravage those cherry-flavored lips until he can't _breathe_. But, he doesn't. He stays calm. He acts normal. He waits for Mitch to respond. 

Mitch sees that flash of hunger in his eyes, he must, because the moment passes and he casts his eyes down at the floor before turning to ask, "Could you tie this for me?" He sways as he turns, showing Scott the ribbons at the back that he'd only faintly noticed before. It's one of the hardest things he's ever done, coming so close to Mitch's skin without touching it as he makes a simple bow, and then sighing underneath his breath as he forces himself to pull away. 

When Mitch turns to look at him again, his eyes are just as innocent, but perhaps a bit more sure. 

"Last call, you could come with us," he offers, but Scott doesn't trust himself _now_ , let alone with a drink in his hand and Mitch pressed up close. He declines for tonight, and he tries not to let himself see the disappointment in Mitch's eyes as he leaves.

 

When Mitch returns, looking tired and a little tipsy as he rips away his boots and drags himself down the hall, Scott is there, warm and gentle, asking him how his night was and whether he had found any fun. 

Mitch barely replies, just sinks his toes into the carpet and tries to smile at him. Scott sees through it immediately and reaches for him out of habit. There's nothing that drains Mitch more than an empty night out, and Scott has wanted to touch Mitch ever since he left. If this is all Scott gets, then he really shouldn't complain. 

"Don't-" he says it against Mitch's neck at first, but the bare skin and his baited breath sit too warmly there, so he moves to look Mitch in the face. "Don't take it personal. There are lotsa guys out there, you just haven't found the right one yet." He pets absentmindedly over Mitch's hair, his arm, then his chest. 

"And you will, Mitchy. I know it..." he urges, but it trails off, because Mitch is staring at him like he's seeing him for the first time, and Scott almost wants to cry because he never gets that kind of devoted attention. 

"What if..." Mitch sounds distant, like he's unsure. "We..."

And then he's doing it. He's in his space, and this time he's not turning away. He's leaning in, and Scott is so, so scared, that what they have is too fragile to withstand this. But he doesn't care. In that moment, he just closes that space, and he kisses him, the way Mitch deserved for going out on the town, for wearing this amazing outfit, for just being himself.

He really isn't certain how they ended up in his bed, or what had finally made Mitch take that leap. But when he's lying awake afterward, and Mitch is sleeping peacefully in his arms, he doesn't regret it. 

He doesn't think he will, not with the lingering memory of the way Mitch had screamed when he'd pulled a thick strap from around his nipple and let it snap over that beautiful pink skin. He doesn't want to forget that, or any of it. The way his hands had rolled over every inch of him, finally able to touch him the way he'd wanted to for years. Or the taste of Mitch's lips and the slick softness made from his tongue when his mouth fell open to moan between their kisses. 

Still, when Mitch wakes up in the morning, Scott's willing to play along as Mitch slips out of the bed before Scott wakes, only to return wearing his own pajamas and holding their regular coffee, pretending he doesn't remember anything. Scott just asks him how his night went and smirks when he says, 'amazing.'

 

It hurts a little more than it should when Mitch brings someone else home the following week. He knows they're not a thing. At least, they haven't ever mentioned it, and Mitch has the right to do what he wants. 

But, the sickening drop in Scott's chest as he hears their noises through his walls makes him turn over and ball up in the comforter, wishing it were him instead. 

The next morning, the nameless man is already gone by the time Scott wakes for breakfast, evidently not good enough to earn the scrambled eggs and toast Mitch has left waiting for Scott on the table. They talk, sparingly, Mitch reading and Scott flipping through the news. They go to rehearsal, and Scott doesn't fool himself into thinking that Avi won't know something's up when he hugs him much tighter than usual. 

They talk about it, and Scott has to sober up at Avi's quiet words, "He's using you, Scott. You have to tell him that you're falling for him." 

But telling Mitch had never been in Scott's plan. 

Instead, he contents himself with following in Mitch's footsteps and pretending like it never happened, and none of it ever mattered. They live stream together, and Scott smiles. Mitch drinks, and then he smiles too, laughing as he slaps Scott's ass once, twice, and then Scott has to ask him not to, so very nicely. _Not in front of the kids, Mitchy._ They're skating on thin ice here, have been since day one, and Scott doesn't know how much more his tired, aching muscles can take. 

But, he smiles, and he pretends, and he drinks when Mitch isn't around, and finally, he starts feeling the regret. Because it's been months, and Mitch still hasn't come close to the way it was when he put his heart back together on that first night. 

_You have to tell him_ , Avi had said. 

Softly, Scott wonders which will be worse, the fall or the break. 

○○○

"Ahh, Mitchy..." Scott's voice betrays him. He can't help it, he's somewhere far away now, "please."

Mitch's body is on him, pressed so close Scott thinks he can't breathe. His touches are feather light; everything he does is meant to tease, to torment. 

He's been quiet, and his voice is soft and thick when he asks, "What do you want from me, Scott?"

His eyes are just barely closed, his eyelids feigning lift before his head falls back on the pillow. He's so close, and he wants so much. He can't help but tell the truth. 

"Everything."

○○○

It really is no surprise when Mitch takes a trip without him. 

They've been in a tense standstill for about six months. Scott can't blame him. 

But his heart hurts in a way it shouldn't when Mitch walks out that door, and Scott's left alone in the quiet apartment. 

To soothe his tired mind, he goes to Avi's after the first night, and they drink. Avi only lets him have one or two, but by then, he's so numb with everything that he doesn't care.

Avi asks, "How long is he gone?" 

They hadn't talked about it much, but they both knew it was the reason for Scott's visit. 

"A week," Scott says dryly, taking another swig from the glass bottle. 

Avi doesn't say anything, so Scott sighs and admits it. "It's almost like he wanted to get away from me."

His voice shakes a little more than it should, and it angers him that there are tears building in his eyes. He should be stronger than this.

Avi doesn't hold him. Avi doesn't encourage him. He simply tells it like it is. 

"He did want to get away from you."

He takes a pause then, so that Scott can look up at him in surprise. 

"You messed up, Scott. You let him use you. More than once, I'm guessing." He tips his eyes toward Scott and Scott has to hide the telling blush on his cheeks and the guilt in his eyes. "And now you're expecting more of him that maybe he just isn't ready to give. And maybe he'll never be ready."

Scott sits still at that, staring at the floor. It isn't like he doesn't already know that, he just hates hearing it again, outside his mind, where it's more real.

"But if you don't get over him, Scott," and Scott watches carefully now as Avi gently takes the empty bottle from his hand, "it could break you."

○○○

Mitch returns from his trip that weekend, after Scott has spent a long, silent set of days at home, thinking. 

He's laden with heavy bags, and he looks worn from the flight. Scott does his best not to look, not to feel. It's what Mitch would want. 

He helps Mitch carry his bags to his room, and then they part for the night. Mitch asks if he'll join him for dinner tomorrow, and Scott agrees, back turned to him, already closing his bedroom door. 

At dinner, they talk about nothing but Mitch's trip and what the scenery was like. Scott has to hold his stomach when Mitch starts to talk about the bars, and the boys. But Mitch seems to notice, and he changes the topic quickly. While it makes him nervous, Scott is grateful. 

Avi calls to ask how things are going now that Mitch is back, and Scott can't tell him any differently than, "It sucks. I wanna go back to your place." He's pouting a little, so he stops when he hears the warning in Avi's tone.

"Ohh, no, buddy. We're friends, and I'd like to keep it that way. No amount of nights spent with me is going to make all of this worth the risk." 

Scott tries to tell him he's wrong, tell him he's better and worth more than that, but Avi knows Scott. He knows that Mitch will always mean more.

It's possible that's the reason that Scott finally asks him. It's a quiet day, and the sun is shining in through the window as Mitch folds clothes in the living room. They've been careful around each other, but the atmosphere hasn't been as tense as before. 

That is, until Scott says, "What are we, Mitch?" 

Mitch looks up at him, daggers in his eyes and the breath drained from his throat. It's clear he doesn't want to talk about this, but instead just keep going on like it isn't slowly killing Scott from the inside out.

Scott won't have it. He stares right back, willing to let this turn into a fight if that's what it takes to get Mitch to talk. 

Mitch simply folds his sheets, primly, and Scott doesn't let it bother him that he knows exactly _why_ they had needed to be washed. 

Mitch's voice seems almost calm, it's so thin, when he asks, "I think the real question here is, what do you want us to be?"

Scott clenches his fists. He knows that Mitch isn't wrong, but he deserves more than to have that thrown in his face. He can't help the anger in his tone when he replies, "More than what we are. But you know that, or else you wouldn't be acting like I don't exist unless you need a good fuck to help you forget."

"I-" Mitch tries, but there are already tears in his eyes as he realizes how angry and hurt Scott really is, that he's been tip-toeing around it this whole time, and that he's ready to leave. 

That doesn't stop Scott from interrupting him and practically yelling, "No, Mitch. Don't tell me you didn't know. I fucking told you I love you on the third night, and I _know_ you heard me. We're more than this stupid cage you've got us trapped in. Either you want more, or you don't, but we can't play this in-between game anymore. I'm tired, and I want it to stop."

Scott's breathing is fairly heavy when he finishes, but his body goes still as Mitch stands up, stepping carefully over to him. His eyes are trained on Scott, and they hold a regret that he didn't know Mitch had. Mitch's hands rise to cup his face, and Scott turns them away, watching as they rest forlornly at Mitch's side instead.

"I'm sorry, Scott," is the first thing Mitch says, and Scott wants to cry and run out the door. But, he continues with, "I never wanted to hurt you. I thought that- maybe if you saw what a mess I was, you'd get over me." 

Scott's voice doesn't tremble, it doesn't. "But why did you do it? Why have me for the night if you didn't want me in the day?"

Scott's waxing philosophical, or maybe it's poetic, now, but Mitch's reply is what takes his breath away. 

"I _did_ want you. You think I wore all those outfits just for fun? I was testing you, Scott. To see if you really wanted me the way– the way your eyes said that you did."

It's not that big of a surprise. Best friends can only hide so much from each other. Mitch would have been blind not to see the want in Scott's eyes some time ago. 

"And as for the nights," he sighs, and Scott's chest hurts from the regret he can hear inside it. "It's easy to let go when you're finally feeling loved by someone, y'know?"

Mitch looks up at him with big, honest eyes, and Scott just sighs. 

"Yeah."

It's quiet for a moment, and then Mitch places his hand on Scott's chest. Scott doesn't move away this time. It feels better to know what Mitch's reasons were, even if they were selfish. 

"I don't know what we are, Scott. Except losers," he jokes, and Scott laughs a little. "But, if you want to be more, then-"

It's too soon, maybe, and Scott probably shouldn't let him in so fast, but Mitch kisses him, and he's content to let Avi deal with the aftermath.

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! More Scömìche stuff! I wrote this a while back and finally got the courage to post it here. I hope you liked it. I believe this is the last of my finished work from last year, so anything that comes out next should be new! :) Please leave a comment below or [come chat with me on tumblr](http://sunsetscomiche.tumblr.com). Lots of good things are in store! <3


End file.
